God decided to show up big time for my son’s wedding a couple of weekends ago.
I didn’t notice what was happening until things were well underway at the church. Our son and daughter-in-law had surprised us by choosing to follow the traditional set of rituals that the Episcopal Church offers instead of one of the polished, edited, urbane versions of the wedding ceremony that are so in vogue today. Their decision forced all of us to settle down, be still, and absorb the readings, prayers, and vows being spoken. The deepening connection among us was palpable.
The unhurried, measured pace of the ceremony also opened our capacities to pay attention and reflect upon the unfolding events. Three days earlier, around 5:00 AM, a 7-ton meteor had streaked across lower Michigan and Ohio. It was also visible over the Finger Lakes, the site of our son’s wedding. An opening salvo for the extraordinary interplay of light and love that was about to begin.
Parker and Emily’s wedding day began as a blustery affair with high winds carrying the threat of rain. But by 4:00 PM, a brilliant, silent, sunny day unfurled before us, turning the stained-glass windows of the church into a kaleidoscope of penetrating, jewel-tone rays of light. At the reception afterwards, I remarked to Cathy Quinn, the officiating priest, that I had only once witnessed a day of such stunning beauty before. She agreed, having been there, that the afternoon of our son’s great-grandmother’s memorial service was a similar, unforgettable moment.
Springboarding off our son and daughter-in-law’s chance encounter on Market Street in Corning, and its multi-generational connection to glass, Cathy noted in her homily that a solid marriage is built upon the love between two partners and their connection to the divine. This triangular structure, like the atomic building block of silica dioxide (or glass), makes it possible for a marriage to have the strength, flexible rigidity, and transparency or openness that are key to a lifetime of love.
The unusual sequence of events leading up to the wedding ceremony could have easily ended at the church, but the Universe had more wizardly pyrotechnics up its sleeve. A setting sun cast a cinematic, golden glow over the proceedings making everyone look like movie stars. That spell then gave way to a rising blue moon which created its own cosmic statement.
When the band began to play set after set of songs that all knew, everyone, and I mean everyone – ages 8 to 84 – was up on their feet, dancing, writhing, head-nodding, as if in a trance. We ended the evening in a giant circle of 75 or more dancing die-hards singing “Take Me Home, Country Road”. A symbol of unity and wholeness. The bridal party and a few friends reassembled around a fire pit that blazed into the wee hours under the full moon.
After the wedding festivities were over, Parker, Emily, his brother Philip, and Sarah and I spent a couple days on Canandaigua Lake decompressing. The preternatural stillness of their wedding day continued to hold us in its sway. The only sound I remember hearing for 72 hours was the drone of a lone jet ski.
As I now look back on the weekend, the sequence of events that we experienced have taken on Shakespearean dimensions. It was if we were unwitting actors in one of the bard’s great unfinished comedies featuring a system of signs, portents, symbols to guide us through our journeys of personal transformation and renewal. The joy that the Universe had taken in seeing so much love showered by one and all upon each other was unmistakable.
Although I know that many reading this will scoff at what they might consider magical thinking, Dr. Lisa Miller and other neuroscientists have now proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that our brains are hard-wired to experience the transcendent. We dismiss this way of perceiving our lives at our peril. Physics, biology, medicine, psychology and other academic disciplines have begun to confirm with irrefutable data the ancient wisdom that has urged humans across the millennia to connect with a life force greater than ourselves. Equally encouraging, as revealed by the Rev. Canon Steph Spellers, is the fact that millennials, though disaffected with the church, are leading us back into a more direct encounter with the divine.
Towards the end of our stay, I awoke at 5:00 AM to watch the sun rise as the blue moon set. I sat in wonder. I could not miss the message that a new chapter had begun.
